Observations on life by a sleep deprived mom, writer, and amateur paparazzi of my neurodiverse ASD family.

Teddy bears and other sexual toys

Selfies, the modern narcissists’ version of slideshow parties and vanity plates. We’re happy for you, Steve, that you went to Dubai and that Chapman Chutney III is first chair in his pan flute class but please stop with the selfie stick action sequences on your GoPro, ok? A little goes a long way when it comes to bragging. We all love our kids but Louis C.K. is right, no one is watching your videos except for yourself. No one. We all hit “like” because we love you and your kid, we understand.

Much like the brelfie craze. Well intentioned, some beautifully shot, and a wonderful keepsake for your child and yourself but probably not the best selection of photo for your LinkedIn profile or CV. Being a mother should not factor against you in getting a job but neither should smoking weed and I’m pretty sure a shot of you roasting a bowl isn’t getting you that executive slot at Google.

My point being this, a healthy self-esteem is great and a healthy sexual awareness as well but do we need it all at once? Anything can be sexual and that’s ok. Sex is ok. A photo of your breasts may or may not be sexual but in my house it wouldn’t raise any eyebrows. Breasts are just as sexual as a kitchen table around here. They provide sustenance and are a frequent prop during conversation. The sight of my non-nursing bras are far more sexual because they represent time away from the kids that might include sexual contact.

My son humps the couch and his bear. He’s a live performance art tribute to “Wifred” but teddy bears are not sexy to me, especially not now, but they’re like edible panties to Owen. It’s unsettling. He’s allowed one bear and the rest went in the garage for the next sale.

Everything in moderation, including moderation. You want to make fish lips at the camera with sushi in the background? By all means. I’ll be busy taking photos of myself with my kids for prosperity sake so they can see how much I loved them and have a record of their childhood in case I’m not around to tell them someday. Boobs and all. If that’s too much for you go back to staring at your sexual plate of sushi through the GoPro. Owen might enjoy looking at the photo while he humps his bear.

Barbara Ann Kelso

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Published by Barbara Kelso

Autism isn't a disease, it's simply the reality of those I love. Thank you for visiting, reading, and sharing with me as I share observations on parenting two children with autism and all that is typical for us.
View all posts by Barbara Kelso